


Weakness of the Super Soldier

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Bodily Fluids, Captivity, Explicit Sexual Content, Gang Rape, Heavy Petting, Humiliation, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Male Slash, Mistaken Identity, Monologue, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Oral Sex, Parallel Universes, Post-Canon, Rape/Non-con Elements, Replicest, Sex Magic, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Twincest, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Loki's escape from Asgard, he comes back to show his newfound power & dominion over the men of the Avengers, first making an example of Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness of the Super Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.
> 
> this has been a year and several months in the making, so without further ado...  
> enjoy~
> 
> Merry Christmas & Happy New Year for all Readers & Writers~

Thor waited on the glittering bridge between worlds, his mount patiently stomping the ground as it did. Loki appeared in a great flash of blue thunder and black clouds wielding the Chitauri scepter, wearing no battle armor as the God of Thunder had, bringing no army behind but the endlessly crackling sapphire inlaid within the weapon. Thor dismounted, waving a hand to his friends and the soldier-filled bridge in order to keep them from attacking as he approached his younger adoptive brother, the mischievous smile which the rogue God had drunkenly gleaming betwixt them both broke the Thunder God’s patience, he strode hard and quick to the other and pulled his own weapon from his belt. Loki tapped the Chitauri scepter to remind his brother of it’s power, icy fire lit the air and divided the atmosphere in half where they stood, allowing the blonde deity a glimpse where no stars glinted, no universes shined their clustered splendor, nothing but an endless emptiness. The ruler of Asgard stopped short of wringing his brother’s neck, he instead took in the self-satisfied grin and form clad without a single trace of panoply. 

“Where is he, Loki!” Thor demanded, his voice reaching even the farthest ranks on the edges of Asgard, he stared hard into the malevolently shining blue eyes, the color betrayed the warm green irises he recalled Loki was once born with, the spreading smirk welcomed a threat to grace his tongue, “So help me if you think I am playing a game with you!” 

Loki’s form, though still, radiated and caused the atmosphere about him to vibrate with the tesseract’s power, and he knew how much of a threat he posed on Asgard with just his presence. He brushed his scepter over the flawless bejeweled stones glinting and unscathed in their wear, his weapon glided over the precious stones and said to his brother, his tone just as unmoved, smooth and gleaming with pride, “Are we not, brother?” 

Thor stilled himself, his thumb brushing over Mjolnir’s hilt, he held the electrefied blue gaze, the unblinking stare of the tyrant-prince swaying his army to take several steps back for his unpredictable demeanor. He cursed the silver tongue and impressionable eyes, the manipulable posture and uncontrollable weapon crackling as fiercely as the fire-forged hammer buzzing in Thor’s hand. 

“Foresight of the future is one of my reality’s greatest wonders. If you so much as utter a prayer for this man you allege as a valuable stranger,-” Loki warned, his eyes fixated on the warm blue stare rippling with recognition as he mentioned another person altogether, his voice softened as did his mock-caring tone, “-I will keep him longer than the seventy years he is to be claimed asleep on Earth.” 

“You intend to break him-!” the thunder God said before he could contain his wavering emotions. 

“Oh, he Is broken, believe me,” the mischievous deity smiled inwardly at memories so familiar and yet strangely alien as if time eroded and scrambled his precious recollections, he then scoffed with the rise of his voice which seemed as if to break the atmosphere in half, “Years to these humans is an elongated eternity to us; had you the balls to claim him as your own, it would have been I to pick up this man’s pieces, you philandering whelp!” 

“Do not speak to me this way, brother,” Thor urged his adoptive brother, and warned when he saw the smile appear at the corner of the serpentine lips, “Or a mighty herald of our battle should ensue.” 

“Go ahead. Go on, brother,” Loki insisted with renewed fire blazing the instigator of a deity his nature implied, he raised a pale finger and motioned in tiny circles, “Wave your little hammer ‘round and ‘round ‘til our bout ends only in my dizziness.” 

“I warn you, Loki-” the God of thunder said, his hand grasping the hard shoulder, his blue eyes pleading for the life and possibly, wellbeing of another whose life lay in the balance of their feud, “-go no further and leave this journeyer alone. Your qualms are with me.” 

“My, my, my, how falling so easily for the populace of Midgard have dulled you,” Loki easily swept the palm off his shoulder and with the scepter in hand, crossed his arms and easily stated, “I have no love for these other forms than myself.” 

The God swept his boot over the line which separated him from Asgard, laying invisibly between he and his elder brother, his eyes slid past the saddened blue orbs to the gilded towers and rising structures of the place he had once called home. At the golden tempest-tower’s crest stood his adoptive father in all his battle finery, awake, fresh and anew from Odinsleep, the thousands of precious weapons melted into the armor of his entire lineage’s conquered enemies shone gilt and bright. The true father of the celestial ruler of Asgard held himself proudly behind the vast army populating before Loki, he not once saw the shadow of fear pass over his adoptive father, watching as the blue eyes remained unchanged, as if parenting the trickster-God waging a possible coup were the greatest gift bestowed upon him. 

“Once, my love was not enough. Not for you, not for our father, not for all of Asgard. Has it not,” he snapped himself out of stupor before his brother, “Has it not changed with this circle we chase in cycles of? Endlessly resetting the trail of the nothingness beyond our home to the times whence before we were born?” 

Thor stared at his younger brother in shock, visibly taken aback and disrupted beyond comprehension. Loki knew this face well in it’s rarity to be seen publicly, he savored the whites overtaking the thunder God’s eyes, the gradually darkening space between the commanding lips, the helplessly senseless posture with the hammer holding to Thor’s limp wrist by the leather strap. Then just as slowly did comprehension fall back into Thor’s graces; a simple truth which involved both brothers. 

“Do you not ever tire of playing this game with me?” Loki asked, already knowing the answer but more than obliged to listen for the response worth a thousand wars, “Do you not ever tire of the rising stakes of our play?” 

“I am, Loki,” the God of Thunder wearily answered, Loki felt his phallus jump in his slight recognition of a small success, “You are of my blood, I cannot kill you, and yet you force me to lay my hand in harm about you.” 

The God of Mischief hated more than his adoptive sibling in the state and composition of defeat, but this endless cycle of many small victories and ever so few, yet Major defeats kept him from wanting out of the contest matched of wits only he and Thor dared to venture, and such a succulent failure Thor suffered beneath his hand at the moment. 

‘Oh, would This put an end to all his taunts and amplify the risks,’ Loki mused smugly, he took in his brother’s visible downfall in stride, color from the golden face fading and cooling to sickness’ colors, pale and blue his shades became, the enemy-God let his face fall into the half serious mock-sadness he felt, “A prince of the Jodunn who rose to become sole king of Asgard-” 

“A Stolen kingdom! How is it knowing that you betrayed not only the love and ignorance of all that are dear to us, but I also?” Thor cut through the certain self-appraisal to follow the silver tongue into his ear, as a strip of silk set aflame would do if ever to touch naked skin, the younger God’s posture faltered, though intentionally. 

“I feel strangely triumphant as a matter of fact,” Loki answered, his ice-comet blue eyes meeting those the opacity of once tranquil waters disturbed suddenly, he looked aside again to a star which’s tone matched his brother’s warm glare, Midgard or more commonly: Earth, “Watching all these puny life forms squirm and worship in my grasp, their delicious fear permeating me. It is only something, or rather a Feeling of superior elation you can dream of, brother. If only you were brave enough to take a taste.” 

“You are a monster,” Thor uttered breathlessly, following the trenchant eyes aside to the planet alit weakly beyond the bridge’s borders. 

“No, brother,” Loki said, his scepter nicking the air to reveal a form so familiar to the two, yet so old that time felt as if it had resurrected a suppressed dream turned-nightmare turned-daydream and finally manifesting into it’s true horrendous form. Thor stared inevitably, forgetting his younger brother altogether and lapping every detail as it shown in such a dimly lit place: lashes closed to the lid and retaining settled bubbles, full lips leaking blood only moments ago, a face and body so out of reality’s bounds that they both found the fact hard to believe he became enhanced by a human product. The trickster-deity stated proudly, “I am a God.” 

The illusion showing the sleeping form of Steve Rogers burned into Thor’s mind, every nerve ending and fiber of his being on fire at his adoptive brother’s obvious intent, he stilled his hands from taking hold of that slender neck and the scepter, knowing that only a single prick in the atmosphere’s roofing would it unleash the paired fury of the Chitauri race and Loki’s power, if Loki so willed it. The Trickster-God obscured the image with an innocent flick of his wrist as the Thunder God proclaimed with bridled anger and stoicism, “Not of Asgard, Loki.” 

“No, I moved beyond Asgard. Farther, more richer of knowledge and love than your weak home Asgard,” the unarmed deity smiled, moving easily the scepter in his grasp, showing another image of his fabled place, “My own kingdom, soon-to-be empire.” 

“There is no place of equal greatness nor abundance,” the Thunder God peered deeper into the umoving void, losing himself in the swirling dark where even the blackest of night held shadows far more clothed in pitch shades than those of nightmares. Yet in it’s midst lay a certain soldier still dressed in blue with the trusty shield nowhere in sight. As if being the center source of light and providing otherworldly brightness in the vast and empty dark of Loki’s world, Steve gleamed in sleep.

“Oh, but there is. A place you only need but to turn to the shadow of yourself to see: The Infinite Naught,” Loki whispered half to his brother and to the dozing form laying upon the surface of Loki's lightless realm, his gloved finger reached into the void and traced over the trembling jawbone of the only source of light in the corner he built entirely from his own mind, he felt the phantom suppleness awakening the nerves under his fingers of the glowing body, as if the human were acting as the sun to the darkness of his stratum, “Valhalla is no more a match than your home.” 

“All I need is but the death of a certain Johann Schmidt to never come to pass,” he stated while letting his hand pass through the barrier his scepter created to wipe away a drop of sweat from the quivering brow nestled beneath long blonde hanks, “Then I may take the tesseract from him while the world is at their knees beneath him. After I kill him, of course.” 

“Completely very anti-climatic, the ending written with me ruling Midgard and the whole of our worlds it is. I like it,” Loki said, soon allowing the subtle mirth in his voice to give way to hostile calm, “But time and time again, you, my brother, will always see a way for that to never happen.” 

“Because you are not fit to rule all that you see and cannot see,” Thor claimed stubbornly, their peace wavering to uncertainty as Sif and the Warriors Three barely had enough willpower not to defend their king from an insult surely to be placed. 

“I already wield power over all that I know and all that is Steve Rogers,” the tyrant-Prince said low that only his adoptive brother would be the only one to share a known secret, humor dripping poisonously from his perfectly sneering lips, “Another thing you will never allow yourself the pleasure of.” 

“Seventy Earth years is a short time,” the Thunder-God objected, Mjolnir crackling to life just the same as the Chitauri scepter. 

“That translated into an eternity is enough for me to cleave and rebuild him in compliant likeness. Over and over and Over again,” Loki smirked in steadfastness as he glanced toward the broken bridge of the Bifrost, “When he wakes, when you find a way to defeat me, we will be but children again back in times of universal peace.” 

“We can start over,” Thor resolutely implored, resting a hand on the weapon-wielding arm of the enemy-prince, his eyes melted away of anger as did his voice, “You and I.” 

“You will need to wait seventy years and a few months for that, my brother,” Loki answered, taking a step forward as the Warriors Three and Sif advanced from their line in the divine being-formed battlements, he decided to strike in his adoptive brother’s heart before his welcome actually wore on the verge of danger, “Time flies when you are in love, but Knowing another is fucking your beloved is eternal torture. Is it not?” 

“So you do love him! It chafes you so,” Loki proclaimed excitedly, his mind suddenly polluting itself of the many ways to maim both unbeknownst beloved and undeclared lover, Thor’s face fell to a grimace, the air about them froze and steeled, the large fingers twitched on Mjolnir’s hilt, he mockingly shivered to the dreadfulness of the situation, “Ooh! Anger’s colors suit you.” 

The Trickster-God sliced the atmosphere at the former-Bifrost’s edge, unsealing the doorway between his own world and Asgard, he bid his brother goodbye, “Farewell, brother.” 

“Loki! Wait,” Thor said, stilling his adoptive sibling’s legs before they took another step, “If and when I defeat you, I will make you pay far more dearly than with your life.” 

“I needn’t hold my breath for that to happen, should I,” Loki said calmly as he watched the army sweep alike a billow of storm clouds to their king’s side. 

“Seventy Years!” Thor roared, shaking Asgard on it’s nonexistent axis. 

“And yet there is no price for Eternity,” the frost giant prince informed more for his own unhealed wounds which gashed at Asgard’s ruler, he said before closing the split cosmos between them, “Stop me, brother.” 

Loki stood in the darkest corner of universal nothingness which lay in the cusp between Asgard’s watchful rule and complete oblivion, an infinity of complete darkness and the effervescent burn of black stars. In other words: an unspecified microcosm which Loki created. All that was the god of mischief stood in a world only he ruled completely and truly, and in that world comprised of only he and an unconscious Steve Rogers. The beautiful soldier lay on his back, his body obscured in his suit from his first employment at Germany's fronts, the padded blue material tucking away his nakedness by straps wrapped around his arms and waist, a leather utility belt buckled to his hips and around his shoulder. The God sat before the body upon a throne wrought of black astronomic ore, the Chitauri scepter glowing in his right hand, contemplating only a moment before a rhythm made of a pair of eight boots deftly stride their way to Loki, he still sat, chin in hand and eyes not focusing anywhere but upon the sleeping form, as if the earth-treasure were frozen in time and merely resting for another battle with HYDRA, Loki presumed that Steve slept so soundly during his deployment in nineteen-forty-four. 

Instantly, those eight forms draped themselves comfortably about the Trickster-God, two crowded each on his knee, one kneeling between his outspread legs, one arranged upon each shoulder as one began licking and sucking Loki's idle left hand. As the mouth began sucking on his thumb, he took the face in his finger with the thumb still lodged within the warm cavern, the tongue laved his digit all the more lovingly, he thought aloud to the several pairs of ears listening to him, “Your beauty does not pale to this so-called Captain, you only stand side by side as equals possessing different brands of splendor.” 

They did not answer, yet they nodded in unison as if understanding fully being as themselves existed solely for their creator, each having no mind of their own but belonging solely to Loki, his smile slithered over his face creating an ice-like gash in the macrocosm, congratulating himself on how each of their details were down to the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, each an exact copy of the Trickster-God. Each of them had only but black tunics fitting to every curve of their upper torsos, dark straps and green material woven into their sleeves and below the breasts of the high collars threaded with gold, black trousers strung up upon slim hips by a belt, the long legs tucked into a pair of fitting knee-high boots. He ruffled ones’ thin serpentine black waves after setting the Chitauri weapon carefully on the throne’s arm as the wavy strands fell gracefully from an inquiring brow settled upon his knee, he tucked the ebony hank behind the equally pale ear as the speechless face murmured into the fabric of his quickly tightening pants. One of Loki’s doppelganger whom was nestled between his knees turned to Steve’s lifeless body sprawled behind their forms, those comet-ice blue eyes pleaded as they looked back up to the Trickster-God and back to the form. 

Loki smirked, his happiness toward their considerate manners directed to their physical master made him want to create these doppelgangers with a mind of their own, what stopped him was the fact that each look-alike was a carnal extension of Himself, he licked the frown off the lips until a smile appeared in its wake, “I would be insulted if you did not.” 

The physical copy’s grin widened, Loki nodded to the body sprawled before their scrutiny, the doppel reverted from his knees at his master’s feet slowly to the balls of his toes and the tips of his fingers, he gracefully slithered with a half-sensual half-instinctual combination to the unaware soldier. Each quiet but swift movement creating languid waves of muscle to appear and disappear as he deftly flexed and released each limb; right arm forward followed by a left tiptoe to the ground, then left arm propelling onward just before a right boot tip, onward the unspeaking mirror-image glided over inner-lit shadows, the hypnotizing eyes focused on the super soldier. Upon reaching his destination, he rose up on his heels and palms, whilst casting a longing glance at his owner-creator, he saw the Trickster-God’s hand wander and point to Steve, and a slow, suggestive nod to the copy. 

The doppel swung a knee over the prostrate form, he crouched his upper torso low over the unconscious super soldier, his tongue flicked out and laved from Steve’s chin to his hairline, which woke him with a start. His eyes shot from the smirking Loki-copy to the actual God himself waving and the remaining other seven following suit with their own slight wave, the one above him put a finger to the pale lips and shushed him. Captain America stared wide-eyed to four other forms disconnecting themselves from their master’s shoulders, and slinking his way, one each perched themselves atop his legs and arms. The two on his legs sat away from Steve atop his muscular thighs, their quick fingers unlacing his boots, the one seated lightly on his abdomen first unbuckled the various utility belt straps on his slim hips and a thin line crossing his torso, the two propped beside him each easily held up his arms with one hand whilst lounging lazily upon his half-flexed biceps. 

Their eyes burning into his with a cold icy-steel inner light, he glanced from one to the other as they nudged their cheeks comfortably into his biceps, their dark hair blending into their forms casting shadows on the infinite naught they occupied, he shuddered as the one seated on his abdomen began unzipping his suit, Loki’s voice dripped lowly as if nectar were sliding off a sliver blade’s edge, “I wonder if my brother still gathers his armies and his friends to find his lost treasure?” 

The zipper tracing a cold line and bumping along his muscles spun his mind, unnumbered fingers easily peeled the canvas armor away, revealing pale skin stretched over hard bulbs of serum-enhanced muscles, the zipper’s jagged metal teeth scraping roughly at his nipples as the armor lay in two halves exposing his chest and taut lower abdomen. Steve balled his idle hands into fists and rolled up onto his knees, irrevocably pushing the deity’s self-clone to his own hands and knees, the others falling at his side, bewildered, mind lost within the nameless chasm of the black planet void, Loki laid a boot heel on the soldier’s left shoulder and the scepter at a throbbing pulse on the naked neck. 

“The piece he searches for certainly will be locked away-” Loki licked his lips as the Chitauri scepter traced vertically along Steve’s neck, under his adam’s apple and alas to the fabric of the blue canvas armor, the material easily parted as he tore the rest away baring a sight which to him was worth eons of war if he had ever thought of kidnapping Steve the first time, he imagined the skin against his tongue and lips opened to his mouth would be delicious were it not for the fact he felt like taking what he pleased, which made the human soldier seem all the more sinful in his shy sensuality, Loki whispered, “-polished, cherished, Loved and never to see light outside of Asgard again. Oh, the calamity.” 

Stealing the human right from under his elder foster-brother was the most vulgar, most masterful thing of all that Loki had done, almost blasphemous in his attempts at felling Asgard from the very ruler’s heart and watching as the rest of the kingdom crush itself into a heartbroken shamble of unforgivable treachery. Loki had but all in mind to corrupt Steve’s righteous mind, untouched body and unspoiled soul, replace each virtuous attribute with himself as he went along distorting and contaminating the only thing Thor held dearer than the virtuous; the Trickster-God found his plan in its entirety so delicious that he motioned to each doppel with the scepter, and gave a small order, “If you would, do as I will.” 

Doubled in their strength and their overwhelming usefulness lying in both number and Loki’s overpowering lust, the doppelganger without warning threw themselves unto Steve’s weaker form, they teased him as if he were bare, bathed in light as his illumination shown outward toward their shadow-enswathed figures, one each again holding his arms out and away upon the flat surface of their void, two atop his naked legs and licking about his smooth rounded calves, another two kissing his strong thighs until a weakness overtook Steve, one sitting atop his muscled thighs and leaning over as it attached itself to a nipple while another at Steve’s side drew the other into its mouth. Not without his usefulness, Loki whispered an incantation which rendered Steve completely drained of strength as if he were his formerly much more-frail self before undertaking the super serum, his appearance and muscle mass meant nothing without which he could neither inflict pain nor exert a kind of defense if he tried, the means of his limbs which held in his body in health disappeared, leaving him a prone husk alive with both a debilitating strength-sapped shell of a body and a consciousness screaming, warning him, defying the recognition of sensations and textures assaulting him. His head snapped left and right as two mouths fought to claim his lips, yet instead settling for licking his neck and jawbones as he grit his teeth and curled his lips inwards away from their insistent mouths, a mouth beneath his rising erection teased him over and over, nibbling along his hip bones, merely breathing upon the engorging head, his arms strained against the hold but lay above his head undisturbed and unmoving. 

The limbs which teased and licked him held no source of warmth, only the tepid sensation of moisture trickling upon the dips and muscular cuts of the nude sections of his body, each pulled at his canvas armor, barely revealing only the upper half of his chest before a twinkle in each dopple's eyes made Steve all the more aware of whom they were created by. They effortlessly split the armor at the seams, ripping his suit into jagged sections of blue canvas and patterned alternating red-white panels, lastly came his boots, each article thrown into the darkness where his own light within could not reach, the breath he held behind his tightly-closed lips erupted from his body in the form of a whimpered gasp, their attention upon his body doubled, hands squeezed as lips and tongues caressed his both sides of his neck, a pair of wet tongues laving both reddened nipples, his abdominal muscles nibbled by straight teeth as another pair kissed up and down his thighs, two dopple sat atop Steve's legs, their breaths synchronized and concentrated on merely touching the tip of their tongues to the crown of his erection, once in a few breaths lapping lightly at the dripping slit. The infinite naught closed in tightly against his body between heartbeats, and released with each of his ragged exhales, his chest fluttering all the more as the tongues lapped closer and more fully upon his cock, enveloping him in a teasing suction between two open mouths, the pair of mouths softly kissing along his pulsing erection, up and down they pressed their lips, alternating between kissing, licking, sucking, scraping their teeth, and dribbling their saliva from his tip and lapping the clear liquid before it could reach his tightly-drawn testicles. 

Each pass of the two mouths made him all the more aware of the hands upon his body, down to the fingernail scraping the edge of his prickled skin, his muscles shivered uncontrollably as if it were altogether another entity set apart from himself, yet somewhere he found his coherency enough that he gasped in hardly-masked disgusted pleasure, “S-stop, Loki!”

His voice swallowed within the endless chasm of the universe where only eight deaf ears listened only for his pleasured cries, which none came as they would have preferred, he ignored the heaviness in his limbs, his body unable to respond against the attention of the eight doppel showering him with long wet licks, fleeting full kisses, touches which barely inched him toward release, alas rising enough to catch a glimpse of Loki still occupying the throne, he fell back to the floor, the flat surface itself seeming as if to be alive as it caressed his lower body, like a body of dry water running beneath him and gradually, Steve slipped through the many hands which held him captive. For only a few more moments, he fought to dislodge the bodies layered atop him, merely wriggling between the constricting doppel carrying on their task ahead of them, they all the more weakened him by intensifying their work, no longer simply holding Steve down, each licked where ever their tongues could reach, ran their hands and legs along the length of his shivering body, emptying the super soldier of all thought until he was nothing more than an unwilling recipient, his bones seemed as if to melt away, consuming every twitch of his bodily strength, and further weakening him. Bucky, Earth, Johann Schmidt, Peggy, his mission – his memory no longer revolved around bettering humanity as his body no longer recognized him as it's owner, vaguely, he knew his body was being repositioned, his knees drawing up and being spread wide as a pair of dopple each took his lifted outspread knee, wedging their own knee beneath the round muscular flesh of his ass, fully exposing his core and lower extremities to Loki. 

Dazed, outspread prone and helpless, Steve made out only one voice, that of Loki speaking, yet he heard as if the sounds were a jumble without any words for several long moments, until there came a question as if it were a voice inside his own head, “Do you, my beauty?” 

“Stop, Loki,” Steve pleaded as he once again recalled his voice, realizing then that he would have taken another tour through Europe instead of being used for someone's entertainment, he rose up on his spine with renewed determination, alas catching Loki's blue eyes on him, in a mixture between the prick of surprise and mostly amusement fulfilled of delectation, he caught sight of a protrusion in the Trickster-god's pants. 

Within his line of vision sat the ruler of the realm which as of yet contained only themselves and the loneliest, most opaque and unfathomable of galactic nothingness, he watched Loki palm and stroke the bulge which seemed as if to grow and take shape beneath the cover of the dark trousers, within Loki's glare visibly permeated physical emotions, just by each action taken by the doppel was Steve able to understand each embodiment of Loki's states of being: Anger, Revulsion, Happiness, Loneliness, Tranquility, Self-Satisfaction, Lethargy, and the last one perched above him, merely seeming as if to mull over the apparently confusing state of unwanted attention playing upon Steve's face. The inflammation in his cheeks, reddening of his nipples and engorging within his erection slowly unfolded the protected corners which he had guarded for years, their touches upon him ranging from agonizingly gentle to horrendously mild and alas deliciously torturous, they easily licked, sucked, nibbled and glided their splayed limbs over him – their rough clothing all the more punctuating his nudity, they avoided touching his lips as he sucked in the heavy air, they kissed around his nipples, no longer allowing themselves to draw in the reddened tips and lightly graze their teeth on the areolas. A few fingers came a touch close to his heavy testicles only to circle back downward towards his thighs and kneecaps, the too light touches of their fingertips barely tapped upon the apparent sensitive areas, merely teasing him unto the verge of madness before they moved their attentions to another bare expanse of skin, sensations so harmonious and in tune seemed as if to pluck at his nerves and chafe at his resolve. 

The doppel positioned above his head and holding his wrists immobile held within his clear blue eyes such a look, one which Steve recognized being that he had the very same expression after finding his dates in the arms of Bucky Barnes, such a pure sick sorrow that the super soldier felt his heart quiver and finally melt as a drop pattered upon his cheek, so very lost the gaze appeared and what he thought was a trick of the light turned out that the doppel's iris color shifted, once glaringly blue and the next the warmest bright shade of green. Gradually, he understood the emotional embodiment in which the doppel represented: Love – he was Loved by Loki of all the unusual of beings? 

“No, Loki-” Steve's voice was nothing more than a moan if he did not enunciate enough for his captor to hear, the breath of Love's doppel misted his brow as it slowly leaned down, he squirmed all the more beneath the approaching face which held only an expression of absolute ardor unpolluted by Loki's other seven embodiments, “Stop this-” 

Their lips touched, he felt the doppel's lips press against his lower lip, lightly licking along his open mouth and retreating, the doppel's fingers then intertwined with his own, gently as though they were more than a pair of unwilling acquaintances, the tender gesture became lost within the chaos ensuing, the seven doppel stood with the exception of Love kneeling beneath Steve's suspended form, he hung upside down with his knees draped over a shoulder and thighs held securely as one stood behind him between his outspread thighs, the unseen arms encircling his spread thighs and encasing their palms over his dripping erection. Another pair knelt at Steve's side, each holding unto his arms and latching their mouths on his swollen nipples, alternating between sucking and brushing their tongue fully around the crimson swells of flesh, the remaining two of the seven doppel stood before him and again resumed kissing the length of his twitching erection, effectively blocking out the embodiment of Loki's Love, as if the doppel were a curse upon their group, the doppel was pushed away when it came close, it's hand slapped away when attempting to reach out to touch Steve. He was helpless in defending the emotion which Loki ignored and crushed beneath Anger, Revulsion, Happiness, Loneliness, Tranquility, Self-Satisfaction, Lethargy, and suddenly everything became so clear: Loki no longer accepted Love as a welcomed emotion, he rather replaced or substituted the feeling with all other emotions, in an act to disassociate himself from ever finding within himself forgiveness and what he perceived as weakness; Steve's vision swam as the blood rushed to his head and he was yet again suffering the vexing vertigo of emphasized sensations assaulting him down to his very consciousness. 

“What have I said about being yourself?” Loki took a hold of the doppel's identical serpentine locks, yanking the head back until they glared eye to eye, the Chitauri scepter crackling angrily in Loki's hand, to Steve's horror, he watched as the Trickster-God raised the scepter until it pressed against the Love-doppel's neck, his poisonous words being spat alike that of an unwanted sour bile, “You are a pitiful, sniveling, parasite breeding weakness and useless sentiments as if you could find no one else to trouble with your futility, you useless Pest.” 

“No, Loki!” the captain yanked weakly within the seven's grasp, the sensation of icy dread flooding and ridding him of all the pleasure he had experienced, he peered between the two bodies stationed before him, the seven doppel paused their tasks and simply stared emptily at their creator threatening the visibly terrified doppel, he shouted frantically, “Please-!” 

“Bearer and Bringer of all Misfortune! Begone, filthy flaw of Odin! Seed of Impotence!” Loki continued as if he had not heard Steve's desperate pleas, he pressed the scepter into the embodiment's neck, igniting the darkness in an even bleaker form of night, his smile lighting above the flickering blue and green of Love's eyes, he recalled once being able to feel terror and love, yet had rid himself of Terror first being that he wished to be fearless in the face of SHIELD and the Avengers, he took one last look and remembered every beautiful detail of gentle deterioration of Love's face before pulverizing both the lingering emotion and the embodiment which tormented him with it's brokenhearted expression, “You are not of this astral plane, an unwelcome disgusting Nothing borne unto me by those treacherous Asgardians!” 

“Leave him alone!” unheard and silenced by the piercing cry erupting from the doppel's disintegrating link to Loki, eyes wide and heart stopping dead cold in his chest, time stood unmoving, all within Loki's lightless realm stilled, time seemed as if to tick backwards and forward alas allowing the doppel to gaze once more upon his face, the green eyes blinking and graceful eyebrows to dip almost in an expression of pure sorrowful yearning, Steve balled his hands into fists and yelled through the invisible wall enclosing about Loki and the embodiment of Love, “Let him go, Loki!” 

“An absolute emptiness that even the lowliest reject your very Existence!” Loki sneered against the green eyes which were no longer trained upon him but focused on the captain hung spread with both legs in the air, Steve shivered from anger once meeting the Trickster-God's stare, feeling as if his chest were being hulled and crushed the further along the Chitauri scepter sliced, again a palpitating wave of delirium caught him in the same sickening web of overpowering guilt, a great shadow swallowed the extinguished embodiment, leaving only the remaining seven dopple and Loki within Steve's illumination, the God of Mischief asked, “Have you no filial regard, Midgardian? Or have I the ill luck of entertaining a rude guest?” 

Steve gulped uselessly, the words no longer serving him during a righteous crusade, his chest felt as if it were caving in while without the mercy of death, the upside down form of Loki advanced toward him, the scepter in hand being cradled at the Jotunn's side, the self-satisfied smirk which once annoyed Thor and was the beginning of a felled kingdom – stretched until teeth appeared and morphed into the coldest, most devoid chuckle, the captain answered in flatly for the likes of showing a wicked God respect, “I don't like bullies.” 

“In the light of our situation, perhaps so I behave rather harshly to my annexe-selves -” Loki stated blandly, he strode about the slit of darkness still radiating within the cusp of his realm, then with the Chitauri scepter, he lifted the scepter and swept upward deftly, effectively closing the pitch blackness where the destroyed doppel had been expelled, watching Steve as he approached ever so slowly, evoking a cold fear which ran down the length of the super-soldier’s spine, “Yet, reaping rewards from self-punishment has its own boon if not for the nobility of the act. Acting nobly is a waste of my time.” 

“How else would you deem my increasing power?” the Trickster-God whispered as he touched a shoulder of one of his doppel, causing the doppel to gaze in his direction and lean into his touch, an electrical charge surged from Loki and ran through the doppel, and lastly crackling at the tip of Steve’s weeping erection still pointed straight towards the unfathomable shadows surrounding their forms, Loki heard a heavy gulp from the suspended Captain America, the smile upon his lips spreading into a wolfish grin, he then explained, “It all began with determination. In order to rule Asgard, I first had to smite my fear, which had then intensified all my other traits. Hence destroying what emotions I had pertaining to Love had only increased my Lethargy, thus feeding Tranquility and Anger, which then leads to Self-Satisfaction and Happiness. The death of Love intensifies my other traits, the burden from useless emotions leave me weightless and free for give attention to the more practical.” 

“Wrong, Loki,” Steve choked out, the sensation of a squirming wetness slithering along his tailbone stole the breath from his lungs, the air in his lungs hitched as he wriggled uselessly from the several pairs of arms holding him open lewdly for Loki's unreserved view, to bear the Trickster-deity's vulgar gaze for one moment more was torture enough being that he was in a state of unavoidable arousal, the chuckle ringing in his head capitalizing how alone they were without the backing of the Avengers or SHIELD, he quickly worded as rising tides of warmth rose from his toes down to his heavy chest, “The only thing you increase is your Loneliness. Getting rid of Love might cure you of feeling for another person, but it won't fix the company you Keep.” 

“On the contrary, Captain, I find the absence of populace quite troublesome if they refrained from recognizing me as their Ruler,” Loki answered, once more brushing a finger through one of his physical embodiment's long locks, watching the roundness of Steve's ass contract and shake, he stepped back into the super-soldier's view not before again sending a spark of blue fire dancing through their touching bodies and settling the flame over the prone human's navel, his lone digit pulled through the sweat dripping down between the spread thighs, passing over the chiseled hipbones, along the matted blonde pubic hairs dusting around and between the hanging erection and navel, he pulled at the hairs, witnessing Steve's penis head give long pearls of slick pre-cum which dripped unto the muscular chest, he wrapped his fingers around the weeping erection and pulled softly at the base, “Beating those into submission whereas forcing them to bow beneath my control begets a strange fascination were my dominion complete.” 

Once more, Steve quivered, he weakly tugged his arms away from those holding unto his own, in the slightest feeling nauseated by his own erection leaking thick globs of wetness steadily unto his heaving chest and once in a while dripping on his downward-cast chin, he yanked with all his might only for the two stationed at his side to suck all the more at his nipples, teasing the soft reddened points into nerve-swelled protrusions, all was then lost – he recalled nothing but a treachery which had yet to pass: the betrayal of Thor's affections. Somewhere within himself, he recalled a voice, one so loud, absolute, and rumbling as if the sound of the aftermath of rolling thunder were his voice, not without the sky-splitting flash which ensued – from the deepest depths of the icy water came a vision enshrouded in white-golden light and a golden halo of hair, a man clothed in what seemed to be silver armor and a vast red cloak stepped forth unto the sea in which he was a prisoner of, no words were said as the man reached for him where he sat unable to move from the pilot's seat. Little he could remember being that behind him in all his warrior's finery was Loki, already chanting an incantation as he claimed Steve's alive body, spiriting the american soldier away merely without his physical form and into the infinite chasm he drew Captain America – further and further the nameless man awash in white light appeared, the handsome face contorting from a slow sadness into one so fearsome and stricken that Steve felt himself wince in the white thunder which erupted and enclosed the icy tomb of HYDRA's lost warship. 

“Thor...-” Steve whispered to himself, the memory was dim and as distant as the universe revolving about their nine lone forms, when and How he had retained a recollection of a person he had never seen or heard of became but shards slicing away at his sanity – as was the recognition of Loki, another person he had never once met – was someone he Knew instantly by name and a sickly dread which would not leave him since awakening in the vast emptiness, ever more did he feel as lost as the standstill passage of time, “Odinson...” 

As soon as the syllables left his lips, Loki's ears pricked in the slightest hearing his adoptive brother's name, he bristled visibly, the hot smack of recognition dealing a blow against the inner fire which was his pride, he plucked away the two doppel sucking and licking away at Steve's erection, hearing a sharp intake, he then pulled the one licking at the suspended super-soldier's tailbone, effectively earning yet another surprised gasp. He motioned for the four at Steve's legs to kneel and the pair still holding the thick muscular arms to instead hook their arms beneath the spine in a makeshift sling while their opposing hands and knees became a type of cushion, the Trickster-god pushed the two holding Captain America's knees farther apart, exposing the reddened ring of crimson flesh nestled between two muscle-bound cheeks, he knew then that soon enough of his revenge coming full circle: deflowering his elder brother's dearest human just as he had been of his power. The expression upon the super-soldier's face was beautiful: panicked and yet so painfully aroused beyond simple fear, hesitant yet too frightfully titillated, aware and too weak to waste even a hair of strength on escape; Loki claimed his victory as he sat on his knees and grabbed the heavy swells of the super-soldier's overfull testicles. 

The watery blue eyes shot to his own, the long lashes leaking and wet, the flushed cheeks awash in color and a mist of sweat, the thick red lips trembled as he reached out his gloved finger and brushed his fingertips along the delicate Cupid's-bow of the moist lower lip, the spread prone soldier jerked his head aside, glaring at Loki as he groaned angrily, “Get away-!” 

Unabashed, Loki plucked the black leather encasing his right hand by the finger one by one, first starting with his forefinger, then the middle, the fourth, his little finger, and lastly his thumb before pulling the glove off and handing it to an awaiting pair of doppel at his side, he began on the left, Steve spoke up in a low tone reflecting a defiance which refused to go unnoticed, “Building yourself on a throne of lies and pain won't gain you any respect, Loki. You just might lose all your dignity on the act of petty punishment for entertainment.” 

“Existing for the sake of vice and pleasure is the basis of my new empire,” Loki paused, he thought first to simply take what he wished of the super-soldier, but all the thinking he was doing had already caused his patience to snap, he took the scepter from his side, slid the edge along Steve's cheek, seeing no fear nor any change in the american's expression, he smiled as he turned the scepter's edge upward and incised the atmosphere, where a darkness had once existed cleared of it's opaque mist, first appeared a gold pattern of interconnected rhombi and angles arose from the pitch black fog, the Trickster-deity explained calmly, his cock brushing along the crease between the two thick swells of flesh, “My time upon the pedestal of second-best will soon change, my most loyal subject.” 

“Observe, dear Midgardian, my crowning moment of triumph,” Loki hissed into Steve's ear, he helplessly looked on as a door within the chasm opened, a slit of light illuminated the chambers, then in stepped Thor weary from a day of debate and seemingly battle-worn, his eyes widened in horror, his mouth dropped open soundlessly, Steve wriggled uselessly within the four doppels' grasp, his own voice drowned out by the roar which Thor emitted, “Why, you are rather winsome when angered, brother.” 

“Loki! Free the Midgardian!” Thor hollered, angrily flying to the window conjoining both worlds, he swung his hammer against the wall in which the six forms were projected, he smashed at the barrier keeping him from entering the shadowed abyss of Loki's world, at the sound of Steve's half-aroused half-whimpered cry of shame, Thor took Mjolnir in both hands and struck the hammer upon the universe's protected channel, “I forbid you lay one hand upon the journeyer!” 

Loki merely lifted himself and fully lay atop the still-propped body of Steve, his nose nuzzling in the muscular juncture between the healthily-tanned chin and collarbone, a dizzying mixture of both natural and artistically-designed musk invaded his senses, the slight tang of gunpowder and gasoline smoke also sang hand in hand as his tongue snaked out from between his smirking lips and laved over the bobbing adam's apple, all the more angering the Thunder-God, glancing upon the stimulation-ragged expression of the captain, he watched both unknown-lover and belated-beloved stare in awe of their own helplessness, Loki whispered to the super-soldier, “Love in it's true form: tasteless, powerless, an emotion all for naught in vain.” 

“Watch, brother-” the Trickster-deity stated, pinching Steve's nipples as he ran his hands down the captain's sides, touching the supple muscles quivering beneath his fingers, lastly taking a firm bruising hold of the sharply-cleaved hips, his fingers squeezed their painful mark unto the unblemished skin; gazing up into the portal where Thor stood looking in, he smiled in finality, “-as I debauch the one thing you hold dear.” 

He pushed in, knowing that he left Some preparation to one of his doppel, Loki licked his lips, tasting the sweet little blossom of flesh as it relented after a moment of prodding, the orifice broke, his eyes closed for only a moment as a terrible bliss overtook him firstly at the tip of his cock and grabbing him by the testicles, his pleasured groan was lost between the angered bellow above him and the disgusted cry beneath him. The other nearly-forgotten seven doppel moaned in succession as he passed his own sensation over to them, he motioned for two to kneel at Steve's midsection, tucking their knees beneath his prone form and again give their attentions over, both lapped at his nipples as their hands stroked along the super-soldier's neck and jawbones, their opposite idle hands wrapping around the weeping erection and one cupping the tightly-drawn testicles, garnering the faintest of moans from their host. He sensed a weight pushing down upon the head of his immersed cock, he watched the captain's abdominal muscles contract and tighten, as if fortifying itself from further invasion, yet the powerful sensation choking him of movement prompted him to take the last doppel and shove their mouth unto Steve's cockhead, and finally breaking down the walls within, the inner muscles fluttered against him, the slicked orifice held hardly enough wetness that he could move himself with his magically-enhanced size, he pulled out just enough for him to spit on his length, adding even more moisture to aide. 

Far from himself and lost within his shameful debasement, Steve kept his eyes only on those of Thor, he found his soul within and dared not to give his captor the satisfaction of acting as if he were effected by his unending degradation, the icy stabbing between his thighs all but numbed him to the cold strike of reality, he felt neither pain nor pleasure, only the surreal weight of realization slowly crushed the air out of him, lazily taking its time in drowning him within the doppel's gentle grasp, falling far away from a place he once knew yet could not differentiate Earth from the endless plane in which he inhabited. Only the sight of Thor grounded him, taking him places unique and distant, so much so that he flew upward, toward the warm blue eyes which beckoned him, his mind reeled, his body dropped the futile weight of his troublesome burdens, his shame disappeared, and into the arms he knew where he would be welcomed, the distraction lasted only a moment before Loki backhanded his cheek soundly, even then, he was no longer within the same astral plane, he lay within the Thunder-God's arms, his thighs spread and welcoming the gentle warmth which slipped between his thighs. The nerves wrapped upon his spine sang in chorus as Thor spread him open, plunging in while he was be-chanced a kiss which he wished never to end, encased within the strong arms of the Thunder-God, he felt as if his heart had stopped and restarted for as long as their lips touched, their nectars exchanging, mixing, being swallowed and tasted until completion slammed him, ushering out his breath as Thor lay over him, their tired eyes searching one another for the nameless emotion they both bore like a curse, he pressed his cheek against the bright entity atop him, whispering in his lowest, most wistful voice 'Love you.'

“He may abuse and break you, my love-” Thor said, stroking the beautiful being lying contentedly below his broad body, he stroked the damp mussed blonde wisps aside, he spoke the rest of his incantation as the conjuring of their meeting grew weaker, then alas the illusion washed away until lastly leaving a sigil upon Steve's skin as proof of his protection, “-yet your body shall remember the pleasure I give unto you and turn his assault into your gratification.” 

Loki glanced down upon the empty-seeming body he was sheathed within, he glanced to a pinprick of light within the super-soldier's nape, he reached up and turned the head aside, he smirked at the sight of Thor's protection-seal, a heat caught him, enraptured, Loki stared at the dazed face and pronounced to his quietened brother whom turned away and retreated from the channel, “So little is my desire...brother...So easily can I break this pretty toy of mine...Very strong, yet so equally fragile the human suffers mortality...” 

So, so dizzy from euphoria, Steve watched uselessly as the golden chasm set above his body was closed, his eyes shifted to the one twitching within him set between his spread thighs, there sat Thor, and all around him were men with the same face clothed in black tunics and green trousers, only the one connected to his body intimately wore a long green overcoat, none emitted the same light as Thor, and yet his mind and body accepted the illusion, he sobbed guilelessly, his voice thick and strained from the warm cock nuzzling him from within and stretching his sensitized orifice, “Thor.” 

The Trickster-deity had then realized that Steve no longer saw him in his true form, but as his elder adoptive brother, he wondered if he cut off the piece of skin where the sigil was created would free the super-soldier of the illusion, and yet finding the captain so compliant and willing only made him all the more against marring the mortal's beauty, he slithered down and pushed the doppel sucking the captain's erection head until they nearly touched nose-to-nose, his fingers brushed the plump lips and delved within as the captain's tongue lapped his digit shyly, he groaned as he kissed the moist upper lip, “Yet so much I cannot have. You are not mine for me to do as I please, am I, Captain Rogers?” 

“All yours', all for you, Thor...I love-” Steve easily whimpered between Loki's spurring thumb and kisses, pressing experimentally against his tongue, he stared into the boundless blue eyes devouring him kiss by kiss, stroke for stroke, heartbeat by heartbeat, he pushed himself downward unto the cock impaling him in a rough, erratic rhythm, he gasped as the head once more ground unto the bundle of nerves within his saliva-slick orifice, “I love-!” 

Loki drowned out the captain's voice with his tongue, he brushed his wet muscle inward, over the straight teeth, upon the velvety tongue and throat groaning sounds so glorious and honeyed that he tasted an earthly sweetness which was both mortal and godly, he murmured against the lips shivering against his own, “Thusly, I shall take all bestown unto me by my rule.” 

The captain's nether mouth tightened around him, wringing his thrusting body of vitality, he suddenly felt crippled of his control over his impending release, he rocked himself upward, scraping himself almost on the verge of abuse on the nerves within Steve, he sensed himself choking, unable to breathe nor stop himself from driving his hips inward and yanking out, the soldier had suddenly overcame his doppel's hold and threw his arms about Loki's shoulders, locking their forms in place as he proclaimed, “Yes, please, have me, Thor-!” 

The Trickster-god gave one final thrust which would have been enough to break any mortal, which instead triggered their release; Steve shouted, his cry echoing until it was swallowed in the endless chasm joined a moment later by Loki whom shouted over and over, his thick release ripped out from his body for what seemed like eternity, every cell and nerve in his body burned as Loki's intervals of icy and infernal fire overtook him, his erection twitched erratically between their bodies – The God of Mischief lit the floor and sky, nearly cracking the infinite naught in half as he filled the super-soldier load after load, the base of his spine crackled with the beginning of lightning and lastly striking each of their nine bodies until lastly settling in the pit of his stomach. He lastly pulled away, shooing the doppel away to sit near his throne, he crawled atop Steve's hips, touching their still-stiff erections together, the captain reacted by flipping their bodies over until Loki lay beneath, the Trickster-deity grabbed unto the bruises on Steve's hip bones, his nails digging in as he watched the love-dazed captain lean down and connect their lips, once more brushing their tongues into one great knot, growing tired of the affectionate motions of his captive – Loki once more rolled their bodies over until he knelt behind Steve's hips, he pulled the captain up so that they both knelt as he entered the sopping nether mouth churning and drowning in his seed. 

“I love you-” Steve murmured heatedly, feeling the rivers of cum leaking out and unto his thighs, he pushed himself backward into the cock which penetrated him so fully, lastly stroking the golden hair tickling his shoulder, he whispered, “-Thor.” 

“His name slipping from your tongue will not serve you well in My domain,” Loki answered, throwing Steve's body forward and ramming himself inward, his palms kneading the perfectly thick fullness of the captain's ass, he struck one as he squeezed the leaking hardness between the outspread thighs. 

“Wishing him and singing his prayer will not save you,” he said, pumping in and swishing around the sticky fluids, he squeezed the captain's erection and slapped the head side to side, causing the orifice to palpitate maddeningly as he rammed in as far as the devirginized passageway allowed, he slapped the other cheek and again to the other smacking his palm upon the damp skin, “Nor will brashness allow swift passage through.” 

“Your eyes,” catching the eyes meeting his as the pleasure-ridden face turned toward him from the floor, he gripped the erection in one hand, rubbing the head with his thumb as he cracked his palm over the inflamed flesh he thrust between, he dealt blow after bruising blow as Steve half-sobbed a pitiful moan, “So blue, so clear, so clean. Just as my brother’s.” 

“Until Ragnarök comes and I claim Asgard as rightfully mine, you shall reside here with all the spoils of war at my feet,” the Trickster-god groaned, he threw all his strength and weight inward, pushing and pulling his cock along the gummy mess of spent seed and saliva, he leaned down until he framed Steve's body with his own, his tongue snaking out unto the blushing tip before nipping with his teeth, “Make the most of your time, human - A new era has begun.” 

Once more, torturous release claimed them both, capturing their joined forms within it's ghostly reach and flinging them into the deepest of endless cosmos, they spilled their essence in sequence of long drawn-out spurts, ending with Steve falling and becoming nothing more than a quivering, whimpering heap, Loki stood and tucked himself away while motioning for the doppel to do as they pleased, the seven came slithering and stride to Steve's side, touching and licking their master's essence of the nude body. He simply took up his scepter and settled on his throne, patiently observing the doppel as each one entered, sucked, stroked, teased and kissed Steve whom only gasped Thor's name as if it were a chant; 

“Go on. Please me,” he said to one doppel, the clicking of a pair of boots leisurely striding around his seated form, Loki transformed his own doppel to have the same inhuman length as Thor, he then ordered as the protrusion grew in girth and size, “Make my while worth Thor's wrath.” 

The doppel strode to Steve's spread form and entered without so much as a preamble, the captain threw his head back and moaned as the illusion of Thor pounded him soundly, Loki only looked on folding his leg over the other and wondering when and how he was to assemble the Avengers and finally deal their penalties as he saw fit, yet seventy years was a long while in which he would enjoy Captain America thoroughly. 

“Thor, brother-,” he smiled to himself, he leaned back unto the throne and began toying with his growing hardness, “-You are next.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm thinking of making this a series...but then again, who knows if it'll take Years again to complete XP


End file.
